Looking for Laughs: Music

My step-dad (only using that term for the purpose of differentiation) was always one to support my interests; sports, card collection, my kids, ad infinitum.  At one point in middle school, to follow in his footsteps (and possibly avoid a bus-ride home) I stayed after school and joined the Washington Junior High Band to be a trumpet playing Wildcat.  (Dad wasn't a wildcat, but he did shred on a trumpet, infinitely better than I ever would.)  Such a badass.

Anyway, the afternoon Mom, Dad, and I went to the music store to rent my trumpet was special for more than one reason.   This was in the days (it makes me feel old to make this upcoming description, so should I throw in the word "Sonny" at the end of it?) where musical instrument and sheet music stores often had very sizeable vinyl record departments.   As did department stores like Sears, Montgomery Ward, et al.  My Dad was a bit of a social butterfly, so as he was chattering away with the person behind the counter that he probably knew (interesting fun fact: by 1984, my Dad knew approximately 77% of the adult population of Kenosha, WI.) I asked another person in the store if they had the new record by Weird Al Yankovic.

"Eat It" was a huge hit at the moment, and being a connoisseur of things that made fun of other things that I didn't particularly enjoy (like Michael Jackson's "Beat It") I was interested in picking up the album, should they have it.  To my true surprise, this mom-and-pop establishment indeed did carry a brand spankin' new copy of "In 3-D", the most recent full-length from Mr. Yankovic.   Dad was more than happy to pay the $6.99 for the new record and made my afternoon.

Listening to "In 3-D" was the beginning of my realization that often, the best of Weird Al's work were the "deep cuts" on his records.   The mainstream parodies were his bread and butter, but his originals were often more vital-sounding, and certainly funnier.  I found myself looking forward to these off-tracks, for lack of a better term, on subsequent albums, as well as his consistently hilarious Polka medleys and "style parodies".  I have been, for over 30 years, a fan of his and will continue to be.  His work will never grow old, as he changes with the culture.  Al, a comedy chameleon of the highest order, was a gift given to me by the "Dr. Demento" radio show that I listened to every Sunday night after "The Young Ones" was over with on MTV.  The Doc gets his own post in this series, so I'm moving on here.

So Dad knew about musical parody, and put in an order at the record store that same day for a collection of the best of  Spike Jones and his City Slickers.  Jones' music was in vogue in the 40's and 50's.  Not so much parody material, and if it were, I wouldn't have been too familiar with the original. The bands tunes consisted of zany slapstick takes of classical pieces, and relevant-to-its time comedy.  A personal favorite of mine was "Der Fuhrer's Face" a direct comedic kick-in-the-nuts to Adolf Hitler. 

Most kids would have frowned on this "old fogey comedy" because Spike Jones was a good 35 to 40 years ahead of my era.  This was 1984, after all.  "Rock You Like a Hurricane" and "The Safety Dance" shared air time with Cyndi Lauper and Billy Joel.  The gap was wide and would have been difficult to traverse for most kids.  Not me.

Listening with my Dad and watching his massive grin grow as we heard the goofy horse race play-by-play on the "William Tell Overture", or the ridiculous vocal machinations on "Chloe" and "Hawaiian War Chant" are some of my favorite quiet moments.  I miss that breathy quiet laugh-turned-chuckle of his. (It was quiet, like he was trying not to laugh).  You saw it, more than you heard it, but you sure as hell felt it, and it was contagious.


My Dad shared other classic comedy with me beyond just Spike Jones.  It's just one of the many ways that he shaped me, and I'm very grateful.